


Discipline

by smallvictories



Series: Something unexpected [2]
Category: Better Call Saul (TV), Breaking Bad
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biphobia (mention), Choking, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Frotting, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Shame, Shameless Smut, Voyeurism, based on bcs s03e04, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallvictories/pseuds/smallvictories
Summary: It's been a few months since their meeting in the courthouse parking lot, and every time Jimmy has seen Mike since then, he gets nervous and says the stupidest things. Everything comes rushing back and it's hard to think of anything but Mike's hands on him. It makes him feel like a hormonal teenager again and it pisses him off.
Relationships: Mike Ehrmantraut/Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman
Series: Something unexpected [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817191
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36





	Discipline

"Nice to fix something for once." Mike says with a hint of a smile on his lips.

Jimmy is surprised, it sounds like Mike enjoyed himself. He slides out of the booth and stands up.

"Well, if that's how you feel, I got a leaky toilet back at the office." Jimmy wisecracks, only half-joking. He really does need that toilet fixed.

Mike purses his lips and sets down his mug. Damn, he can never even get a smile out of this guy.

"All right." Jimmy can't find an excuse to hang around any longer. "If you ever need anything from my end…"

He tosses some cash down on the table and grabs the envelope of photos, tucking the scrap of paper with Rebecca's phone number inside.

_"Hasta luego."_

Jimmy steps out of the diner. He really should get home and finish prepping for his pre-prosecution diversion meeting, which is coming up fast.

He reaches his car and gets inside, relieved to be away from Mike, exhaling as he shoves the photos in his glove box. He hadn't wanted to use him for this job, but there wasn't anyone else he knew who could get those photos and properly fix Chuck's door.

He was unnerved the entire meeting, bouncing his knee in a useless attempt to disperse his nervous energy. Mike certainly noticed.

It's been a few months since their meeting in the courthouse parking lot, and every time Jimmy has seen Mike since then, he gets nervous and says the stupidest things. Everything comes rushing back and it's hard to think of anything but Mike's hands on him. It makes him feel like a hormonal teenager again and it pisses him off.

Of course, Mike seems to have no issue being around him, or no more so than before anyways. When Mike isn't irritated by him, he's completely indifferent toward him, just like always. It almost makes Jimmy want to ask Mike if any of it actually happened.

Nevertheless, he finds himself thinking about that night often, and has shamefully jerked off to it more times than he can count.

Jimmy snaps out of it when a bead of sweat trickles down his forehead and into his eye. He's been zoned out in his car and it's stifling. He cranks the windows down and sighs. Moving to this hellhole of a state was a mistake.

He puts the key in the ignition and is just about to turn it when Mike exits the diner. He's folding a bill into his wallet and doesn't appear to notice Jimmy's car sitting in the parking lot. He watches while Mike walks across the parking lot to his car, and gets in. It isn't until he hears the engine turn over that Jimmy starts his car up too.

Mike backs his car out and drives out of the lot. Jimmy impulsively follows, tailing Mike down the main stretch until he makes a right turn into a residential area. If Mike knows Jimmy is following, he certainly doesn't seem to care.

After only a few minutes of driving, Mike's car slows and pulls to the curb in front of an unassuming bungalow. Not the nicest neighborhood, but not the worst. Jimmy's heart is pounding in his throat. It dawns on him that he doesn't have a game plan, and he might be getting a fist to the face pretty soon. He pulls up behind Mike's Chrysler and gets out of the car quickly before he can change his mind.

Mike exits his car and turns around to look at Jimmy. He sets his jaw and quirks his eyebrow. He's obviously irritated, but not furious like Jimmy expected. Jimmy stands there dumbly and wishes he thought of an excuse before following Mike. He shifts awkwardly and stares down at the cracks in the sidewalk.

Mike walks up to him, stopping just inside his personal bubble, and Jimmy fights the urge to shrink away. 

Mike crosses his arms and sighs, already impatient. "You've got five seconds."

"I… uh…" Jimmy hesitates, eyes darting around while he tries to think of an excuse.

"There's some other business I think we still need to talk about." Jimmy clears his throat. "Uh, privately."

"Is there really?" Mike asks tiredly.

Jimmy opens his mouth to spout more excuses, but Mike turns and walks up the path to the front door of the bungalow. He remains behind, unsure if he should follow.

Mike gets to the door and opens it and steps in, turning to look back down at Jimmy, "You coming?"

Jimmy lets out a soft _oh_. He was expecting Mike to slam the door behind him. He hurries up the walkway to door, following Mike inside.

Jimmy looks around while Mike hangs up his keys and windbreaker on a set of hooks on the wall beside the door. There’s nothing hanging on the beige walls and minimal furniture. Completely inscrutable, just like the man who lives there.

Mike turns and walks through a doorway to the left. Jimmy follows and enters a living room furnished with a small assortment of mismatched furniture and an ancient television.

Mike sits down in an old navy-blue armchair and props his feet up on an ottoman. He retrieves a remote from the end table and flicks the television on. Jimmy walks over to a blue plaid couch nestled in the corner, the only other seat in the room, and plops himself down.

Jimmy recognizes the old Cary Grant movie playing, _His Girl Friday._ Jimmy opens his mouth, about to comment on the movie when Mike speaks up. 

"I should be headed to bed right now, so you better make it fast."

"I don't know how…" Jimmy starts to speak, and tries to catch Mike's eye, but he's absorbed in the movie. Jimmy clears his throat and tries again.

"I don't know how to talk to you about this." Jimmy spits out the words rapid-fire, before he can second-guess himself.

"About what?" Mike asks, not moving his eyes from the screen, an edge to his voice that wasn't there before.

Jimmy turns toward Mike. "What happened that night." He pauses and foolishly adds, "In the parking lot." as though Mike won’t know which night he’s talking about.

 _"That's_ why you followed me home?" Mike turns his head away from the TV and raises an eyebrow at Jimmy. "You want me to fuck you again? Is that it?"

Jimmy chokes at the abruptness of Mike's question and coughs into the sleeve of his suit jacket. "No, that's not…" he trails off weakly. _Wasn't it though?_ Why did he come here?

"You're not subtle, Jimmy." Mike chuckles smugly.

"I just wanted to ask why you left me… like that." Jimmy's face flushes, remembering his humiliation as Mike drove past him, leaving him standing there, half-naked and alone.

Mike shakes his head with exasperation and looks in Jimmy’s eyes. "I don't get it. Did you think we were gonna cuddle after?"

"No, but you didn't need to fuck and run either." Jimmy says jokingly, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest.

"I'm too tired for this." Mike growls, eyes flashing with irritation.

Jimmy sucks in a breath and drops his eyes to the floor. Coming here was a terrible idea.

"I'm not playing games with you. If there's something you want, you gotta ask for it."

Jimmy's stomach drops and he bites his lip. "Can you, uh, be rough with me?" Jimmy mutters, not taking his eyes off the floor.

Mike's eyes widen a little and he smirks. Jimmy glances up and frowns at Mike’s expression.

"Oh, c'mon! Don't tell me to ask and then laugh at me for it." Jimmy whines in embarrassment, his face immediately going red.

"Who's laughing?" Mike replies, "No, I'm just impressed you asked. Good for you."

"Oh, well I’m glad you’re _impressed._ You started this, you know!” Jimmy sneers, hot anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

"I mean, you’re the one who came on to me in the elevator and invited me for a _meeting_ at two in the morning!” Jimmy elaborates, his voice growing louder. “So, please don’t try to make me feel like I’m… like I’m _a freak_ or something.”

Mike is unbothered by Jimmy's brashness but his expression becomes thoughtful.

"I was stressed out. Blowing off steam. Probably not fair to you."

Jimmy is surprised at Mike's openness about this and decides to see how much more he can get out of him.

"Yeah well, stress relief isn’t part of my standard service offering.” Jimmy laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

Mike purses his lips and waits for him to get to the point.

“Seriously though, I would prefer actual lube next time. I was walking funny for a week." Jimmy grimaces. "I mean, uh… if there _is_ a next time."

Mike frowns. "I'm sorry for hurting you, Jimmy."

"It's okay, I mean, everything else you did was good — _really good."_ Jimmy balls his hands into fists on his thighs.

"Yeah, I could tell. You're fucking _loud."_ Mike snickers.

Jimmy's face heats up and he clears his throat, gesturing with a pointed finger between himself and Mike. “So, is this… happening?"

"We need some ground rules." Mike says, stretching his arms up with a soft sigh.

"Like what?" Jimmy asks and leans forward eagerly, filled with nervous excitement.

"If you need me to slow down or stop, you have to tell me. A safe word or something."

"Sure, I can do that." Jimmy agrees, and then hesitates, struggling to think of words that aren't completely ridiculous. "Uh… red, yellow, green?"

"That works." Mike nods.

Mike flicks the TV off and stands up from his chair. He joins Jimmy on the couch, draping his arm over the back over the back of the couch behind Jimmy.

"Tell me what you really want from me." Mike asks, staring hard at Jimmy.

"I guess… I want you to be mean." Jimmy answers awkwardly.

"How?” Mike narrows his eyes at him.

"I want you to insult me and use me to come. Be rough and choke me, make me beg for it." Jimmy's voice cracks as a thrill runs down his spine.

Mike chuckles softly. "You sure?"

Jimmy glances at Mike and licks his lips nervously, breathing hard and crossing his arms over his lap.

"I can do those things for you, Jimmy." Mike leans over and whispers in his ear. "Do you want it now?"

"God, yes." Jimmy murmurs.

"Maybe I'll get you almost all the way there, then leave you. Like in the elevator." Mike watches him hungrily.

Jimmy hums dreamily, thinking about what he did in the washroom after Mike left him.

"Tell me what you did after that, Jimmy." 

Can Mike read minds or something? Jimmy considers lying, but he really wants to see the look on Mike's face. He turns his face toward Mike's, their lips only a few inches apart.

"I hid in a washroom stall and jerked and fingered myself until I came all over the place." Jimmy rasps, giving Mike a self-satisfied smirk.

Mike's eyes flick from Jimmy's lips to meet his eyes, and he groans with frustration. "I wish I could've seen that." 

Jimmy can feel Mike's breath coming in quick, hot bursts against his neck. He reaches out and rests his hands on Mike's waist.

Mike places his hand at the base of Jimmy's throat, his thumb pressing on his jugular, then slides up to his jaw. He pulls Jimmy's face to him forcefully, licking his way into Jimmy's mouth and biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Jimmy whines into Mike's mouth and wraps his arms around him, pulling himself closer so their chests are nearly pressed together.

"If something's not good, you gotta tell me.” Mike says impatiently, out of breath from their kiss.

"I will." Jimmy nods fervently.

Mike stands up and grabs Jimmy by the tie, pulling him to his feet and dragging him down the hall. Jimmy almost trips over his own feet in his struggle to keep up. 

Mike pulls him through a doorway, into what Jimmy guesses must be Mike's bedroom. He drags a rickety wooden chair out of the corner of the room and shoves Jimmy down onto it, the chair making a sickly cracking sound in response.

"Take off your clothes." Mike orders.

"What are you gonna—"

Mike puts a hand over Jimmy's mouth and brings his lips to his ear.

"Unless you're about to say _yellow_ or _red,_ shut the fuck up." Mike removes his hand and stands up straight, glaring down at him.

Jimmy shakes his head and slips his suit jacket off.

“Can I get a hanger, maybe? I know you’re not big into fashion, but this was really expensive…”

Mike stares down at him and says nothing.

“Yeah, okay then.” Jimmy mutters and lets his suit jacket slide to the floor beside him.

Mike scowls impatiently, and Jimmy picks up the pace. Soon his torso is naked and the pile of clothes beside the chair has grown. He reaches down for his belt buckle.

"No." Mike says sharply.

Jimmy drops his arms at his sides.

Mike runs his hand across Jimmy's bare chest, tweaking and pinching his nipples, making him squirm and pant. He's fully hard inside his pants, and his heart pounds in his ears.

Mike reaches down to squeeze Jimmy's cock through the fabric of his pants, and Jimmy jerks his hips, the chair swaying precariously. Mike unclasps Jimmy's belt and works his pants open. He reaches in and pulls his cock up so the head peeks up over the waistband of his boxers.

He rubs teasingly up and down Jimmy's length through the fabric before rubbing his thumb over the exposed head, pressing it up against Jimmy's stomach.

"All right, keep going." Mike urges, standing up and palming himself through his pants.

Jimmy strips down in a hurry, nearly toppling off the chair when his legs get tangled in his pants. He's fully naked now and Mike has yet to remove a stitch of clothing. Mike's stare is making him feel very vulnerable and he grows frustrated at their slow pace.

"You gonna draw me like one of your French girls or can we fuck already?" Jimmy asks, grinning obnoxiously up at Mike.

Mike slaps Jimmy _hard_ across the face and it sounds like a gunshot in the confines of the small bedroom. Jimmy exhales with a groan as his cheek stings painfully and tears spring to his eyes. Mike is standing over him, chest heaving, and Jimmy realizes he's waiting for something.

 _"Green."_ Jimmy rasps, tears running down his face.

Mike grabs a fistful of Jimmy's hair and hauls him up out of the chair. He reaches out with his other hand and grasps Jimmy's throat, slamming him back into the wall.

Mike releases Jimmy's hair and reaches down to grab his cock, stroking firmly. Jimmy gives a garbled cry, hips stuttering, and desperately grips Mike's arm to steady himself.

Jimmy gasps and struggles to draw breath when Mike leans all his weight forward against him. Mike releases his grip on Jimmy's dick and braces himself with his forearm against the wall, pinning Jimmy's thigh between his own and rutting against it.

Mike squeezes Jimmy's throat harder and Jimmy makes soft, strangled grunts as he pumps his hips forward to meet Mike's thrusts, his cock scrubbing along the rough fabric of Mike's pants. When the dark spots on the edge of Jimmy’s vision begin to grow and join, he taps on Mike's wrist.

Mike immediately releases Jimmy's throat and kisses the side of his neck. "You okay?"

Jimmy sucks in a deep breath.

"Just need a breather." He chokes out, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

Mike grips Jimmy's hips and softly kisses along his collarbone. "I can't stop thinking about you getting yourself off in the bathroom." Mike confides between kisses.

"I imagined you fucking me while I did it." Jimmy growls, a smile spreading over his face.

Mike groans against Jimmy’s collarbone. "I wanna watch you."

Jimmy’s eyes pop open. "Like, you want to—"

"I wanna watch you get yourself off." Mike interrupts, darting out his tongue to wet his lips, fixing Jimmy with a keen stare.

Mike makes him feel like bacteria under a microscope. The flush on his face spreads down nearly to his chest.

"R-right now?" Jimmy squeaks.

"Now.” Mike demands with an edge to his voice.

Jimmy clears his throat self-consciously and motions toward the bed. "Can I make myself comfortable?"

Mike backs away to let Jimmy go. "Whatever you need."

Jimmy climbs into the bed and lays down on his back with his legs spread and knees bent. Mike retrieves the chair from the corner and positions it directly at the foot of the bed, sitting down and crossing his arms.

"Show me.” Mike encourages, his voice softening.

Jimmy starts distractedly stroking his cock, eyes darting unfocused around the room, avoiding Mike's gaze.

"Closer." Mike demands gruffly.

Jimmy shuffles toward the foot of the bed, dragging a couple pillows with him to support his head. Mike reaches forward and grabs hold of Jimmy's ankles, pulling him down so his feet are nearly at the edge of the bed. Jimmy closes his eyes and strokes himself firmly, feathering his fingers lightly over the head of his penis, smearing precum down his shaft.

"Keep looking at me, Jimmy." Mike commands, "Don't make me tell you again." 

Jimmy opens his eyes and spreads his legs wider, watching Mike's face framed between his thighs. He inhales sharply and pumps his cock harder, not breaking eye contact. It's Mike who breaks it, his eyes dropping to follow the movement of Jimmy's hand.

Jimmy slows down a bit, fearful he'll come too soon. He strokes languidly and tries to keep his eyes open and trained on Mike.

Mike reaches down and Jimmy hears the rasp of his zipper, and watches his bicep flexing as he strokes himself, unfortunately out of view. All the same, a hot jolt of arousal in Jimmy's gut spreads through his body and he swallows down a moan, humming softly.

"You can make noise, y'know. No one's gonna hear you." Mike reassures him.

"Good, because I've been told I'm _fucking loud."_ Jimmy teases, earning an eyeroll from Mike.

Jimmy raises his left hand to his mouth and sucks on his fingers, a surge of pleasure running through him when Mike's jaw drops open. Jimmy grins around his fingers. He feels good, he feels _powerful_. If Mike wants a show, _he's gonna get a fucking show._

Jimmy licks and sucks as sloppily as he can, slurping and making muffled sounds around his fingers, letting saliva drip from the corners of his mouth. Mike groans breathily and jerks himself harder, his eyes trained on Jimmy's mouth. Jimmy hums happily around his fingers and lifts his legs to rest his ankles on Mike's shoulders. Mike immediately grabs hold of Jimmy's feet and leans forward in anticipation.

Jimmy slides two spit-slicked fingers past his entrance, scissoring them delicately and sighing softly at the sensation. Mike watches raptly, opening his mouth as if about to speak, and then thinks better of it. He turns his head and presses a kiss to Jimmy's ankle instead. 

Jimmy is caught off guard by how much this gesture arouses him, and his breath hitches, a soft whine escaping his lips. He jerks his hips as he thrusts his fingers deeper. He gasps sharply when he hits his prostate, and makes punctuated, high-pitched cries as he taps it repeatedly.

Mike is entranced by Jimmy’s fingers as they slide in and out. Mike's face grows ruddy and his breathing is rapid and shallow. 

“Oh, Jimmy," Mike groans deeply, "I love watching you fuck yourself."

Mike’s words send Jimmy spinning and he presses his fingers in deeper, his legs trembling.

_"I'm close—"_

Mike abruptly yanks Jimmy's hand away. Jimmy opens his mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a needy whine.

“I’m not ready for you to come yet.” Mike pants.

Jimmy pinches his eyes shut and groans in frustration, worried if Mike so much as _looks_ at him the right way, he's going to explode.

"It's okay." Mike rubs his hands up and down Jimmy's calves.

Jimmy smiles tentatively at Mike, and notices how near he is, his face practically nestled between his thighs. Mike's eyes darken and he leans his head forward, bumping his nose up against Jimmy's cock. He licks along the underside and swirls his tongue up over the head.

 _"Oh, fuck!"_ Jimmy shouts hoarsely and arches his back, precum dribbling down his shaft. Mike backs off and Jimmy makes a thin, high sound of desperation.

"Mike, _please."_ Jimmy begs, fisting his hands into the covers.

Mike cards his fingers through the soft hair on Jimmy's belly and kisses the inside of his thigh. He shifts Jimmy's legs off his shoulders and climbs up onto the bed as Jimmy backs away to make space. He crawls on top of Jimmy, pushing him back into the pillows and kissing his neck. He grabs Jimmy's hair and tilts his head back to bare the front of his neck, licking and sucking his Adam's apple.

Jimmy chokes back a laugh as Mike's goatee tickles the sensitive skin of his neck. He wraps his legs around Mike's waist and rocks his hips eagerly, panting and whimpering.

Mike hums in response and licks the shell of Jimmy's ear, before sucking hungrily on the lobe. Jimmy curses and bucks his hips up into Mike, who releases his earlobe with a soft huff of laughter. Mike reaches down and tries to tug his pants off. Jimmy reaches up to help and they manage to pull them off together.

Jimmy's eyes flick down, and he gets a good look at Mike. A similar length to his own, but noticeably thicker. Surprisingly, Mike seems a little self-conscious about Jimmy staring at him and clears his throat.

Jimmy reaches up and grabs the edge of Mike's polo shirt, "May I?" He asks softly.

Mike nods slightly and raises his arms, while Jimmy pulls up the shirt with both hands and tugs it off. Jimmy licks his lips in anticipation and scrapes his nails slowly down Mike's chest.

Mike grabs Jimmy's hips and rolls them over, so Jimmy is on top, and sits back against the headboard for support. He pulls Jimmy closer until their dicks press together and makes a small satisfied sound in the back of his throat.

Mike leans over and opens the drawer of the nightstand, retrieving a small black bottle of lube. He drips some into his palm and then grips both their cocks together, rubbing thoroughly to coat them.

Jimmy makes a humiliatingly high-pitched whine and snaps his hips into Mike's grip, leaning back and bracing his hands on Mike's thighs. He loses himself in the sensation of Mike's warm hand engulfing him, the slick heat of the lube and the pressure of Mike's hard length sliding against his own.

Mike bucks up against Jimmy, grunting roughly with each pump of his hips and Jimmy lets out a choked gasp, realizing how close he is. He reaches down and stills Mike's hand. Mike draws his hand away and creases his brow.

"Too much." Jimmy explains, red-faced and panting.

Mike leans back against the headboard, holding Jimmy in his lap and waits patiently for him to make a move.

Jimmy reaches down and wraps his hand experimentally around Mike's cock. Jimmy has big hands, and yet Mike fills out his grip. Jimmy strokes Mike a couple times, running the pad of his thumb over the head. Mike leans his head back and bares his throat, a deep moan rumbling in his chest.

Jimmy shifts forward and nuzzles into Mike's neck, licking, sucking and nibbling. Mike trembles with pleasure, and hugs Jimmy tightly against him, pressing his mouth to Jimmy's shoulder and murmuring unintelligibly against his skin.

Jimmy pulls away and raises his hips, reaching down and aligning Mike’s cock up with his asshole. He slowly lowers his hips, bracing himself on Mike's shoulders.

Mike shudders and bucks his hips as Jimmy slides down around him, making Jimmy gasp with pain.

 _"Sorry, sorry."_ Mike whispers, trying to catch his breath, his fingers ghosting over Jimmy's hips.

"I'm okay, just need more lube." Jimmy murmurs.

He retrieves the lube from the nightstand and slicks up Mike's penis. A whine slips from Mike while Jimmy massages him and he pinches his eyes shut in embarrassment. Jimmy loves the sound and leans down to press a kiss on Mike's jawline.

Jimmy readjusts and lowers himself onto Mike again, and this time there's only a slight burn. Once Mike is almost completely inside, he stills to catch his breath. The fullness is overwhelming, making his nerves buzz.

"Oh _fuck… Mike, Mike..._ " Jimmy whines as he starts fucking himself slowly, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back.

Jimmy sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and braces himself on fisted hands against Mike's chest. He wishes for a gag, afraid of what embarrassing shit might come out of his mouth. He digs his nails into his palms, leaving halfmoon imprints in his skin.

Mike holds Jimmy firmly around the waist and rubs his thumbs over the skin just below his ribs.

“Jimmy, can I move?"

"God, yes, _fuck me."_ Jimmy chokes out, and leans forward into Mike's chest, pushing him back against the headboard.

Mike gathers Jimmy up in his arms and squeezes him tight, fucking up into him slowly and steadily. Jimmy rests his head in the crook of Mike's neck and presses his lips to the skin just below his ear, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he adjusts to Mike's thrusts. He lifts himself up slightly and wraps his arms around Mike's neck for support. He picks up speed and slams his hips down on Mike, a soft _slap_ sounding through the room each time their bodies meet.

 _"Just—like—that."_ Mike gasps shakily between thrusts. He reaches back and grabs hold of Jimmy's ass, rubbing and squeezing.

Jimmy wants to say how good everything feels, but when he opens his mouth, only embarrassingly incoherent sounds come out. Mike reaches forward and wraps his hand around Jimmy's cock, tugging firmly in time with each thrust of Jimmy's hips.

Jimmy whines urgently and drops his head forward, pressing his forehead to Mike's.

Mike tilts his head up to capture Jimmy's mouth. He pushes his way inside and sucks on Jimmy's tongue, humming with pleasure. Jimmy gasps into Mike's mouth as pressure builds inside him. He grunts in frustration and tries to hold on just a little longer.

Mike grunts and starts pumping Jimmy's dick faster. He suddenly releases Jimmy's tongue, panting hard. "Jimmy… 'm gonna come soon"

Jimmy leans back and holds on to Mike's thighs, slamming his hips down hard and fast. Mike's eyes are closed, his jaw hanging open. The rhythm of his hand on Jimmy's cock grows erratic.

Mike gasps and chokes out a moan as his orgasm hits him. He grabs Jimmy’s hips and pulls down, forcing him to bottom out.

The sensation of fullness and heat as Mike comes inside him pushes Jimmy over the top. He collapses bonelessly against Mike, his cock spurting up between them as he grunts rhythmically into the hollow of Mike’s collarbone.

Several minutes pass as they catch their breath, and Jimmy sighs with contentment when Mike begins to scrape his nails softly up and down his spine.

Jimmy is shocked how quickly his anxiety about his meeting comes rushing back when he doesn’t have a distraction. His muscles tense in discomfort and he shifts, letting Mike slip out of him. 

"What's wrong?” Mike asks, stifling a yawn.

“Nothing.” Jimmy lies, "Uh, where’s your bathroom?”

“To your right, end of the hall.” Mike releases Jimmy with a yawn and grabs a handful of tissue from his nightstand, wiping the semen off his front.

Jimmy rolls out of the bed and makes his way to the bathroom, feeling Mike’s eyes on him as he leaves. Once he’s cleaned up, he pads his way quietly back to the bedroom to retrieve his clothes.

When he returns, Mike is facing away, tucked under the covers. He stands uneasily in the doorway for a moment and then walks carefully over to his clothes piled on the floor. He fishes his pants from the pile and accidentally drops them, the belt buckle clinking loudly against the hardwood.

Mike stirs and turns over to look at Jimmy. “What are you doing?” He mutters sleepily.

“Sorry,” Jimmy apologizes, bending down to retrieve his pants. “I’m gonna get outta here and let you sleep.”

Mike yawns and considers this for a moment, before peeling back the blanket. “C’mere.”

Jimmy creases his brow and bites his lip. Is Mike asking him to _cuddle?_

“Hurry up, before I change my mind.” Mike warns.

Jimmy drops his pants to the floor and crawls back into bed, laying with his back to Mike. Mike pulls the covers over them both and wraps one arm around Jimmy, rubbing his hand in gentle circles over his stomach.

Jimmy sighs and leans back against Mike, trying to loosen his muscles. He hates that his mind keeps going to Chuck right now, of all times. He feels overwhelmed and Mike must pick up on this, because he pulls him closer and squeezes. The unexpected tenderness from Mike snaps something inside him and tears well up in his eyes, a quiet sob escaping his throat.

“Jesus, what’s wrong?” Mike pulls Jimmy over onto his back. Jimmy quickly wipes his tears away and wills himself to stop, swallowing down the sob threatening to escape him.

"My uh… my brother hates my guts." Jimmy says bitterly, his face twisting into a grimace. Mike considers this statement with concern in his eyes.

"You got any brothers or sisters, Mike?" Jimmy asks, immediately trying to steer the conversation away from himself, wiping away the last evidence of his tears and taking a deep breath.

Mike's expression becomes stony as he leans on his elbow, studying Jimmy's face. He clears his throat and lays flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

"I had a little brother." Mike answers softly, "He died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry, Mike." Jimmy turns his head to the side to look at Mike, surprised that he even answered the question.

"Like I said, it was a long time ago." Mike yawns, not taking his eyes off the ceiling.

"Listen Jimmy, can we talk about this later? If I don't get some shut-eye, I'm gonna fall asleep on the job tonight."

Jimmy nods his head. Mike gestures for him to come closer. Jimmy shifts over and Mike wraps his arm around him and pulls him in. Jimmy lays his head on Mike's shoulder and tries to calm his thoughts, tentatively draping his arm across Mike's chest.

He waits for Mike to push him away, but it doesn't happen. Mike closes his eyes and starts drifting off. Jimmy isn't sure why Mike is being so nice right now, but it feels good.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Jimmy asks, unable to help himself.

Mike groans and opens his eyes. "You're really not gonna let me sleep, are you?"

"Sorry," Jimmy replies sheepishly.

"Listen, I like you." Mike says carefully, looking down at Jimmy. "I think I made a mistake with you last time."

Jimmy can't keep the smile off his face when he hears this. "Well, I like you too, and I accept your apology."

Mike rolls his eyes, "Don't make me regret telling you that."

Mike tightens his hand around Jimmy's shoulder.

"Now, shut up." Mike grumbles and closes his eyes.

Jimmy sighs and closes his eyes.

It feels like only a moment has gone by when Jimmy's eyes snap open into darkness. He looks around in disorientation, his heart pounding out of his chest, before remembering where he is. 

Jimmy lays back and catches his breath. The clock radio on the nightstand beside him reads 10:18 PM. He reaches over beside him and notices Mike is gone.

Jimmy stands up and walks to the doorway, poking his head out into the hallway. Light is flooding from underneath the bathroom door and the shower is on. He walks over to his pile of clothes on the floor and slips on his boxer shorts. He’s pulling his undershirt over his head when he hears the bathroom door open and footsteps coming down the hall.

Mike enters the room wearing a towel around his waist and acknowledges Jimmy with a nod.

"Sleep well?" Jimmy asks with a smile, sitting down on the side of the bed.

"Well enough, I guess." Mike replies, fighting back a yawn.

Jimmy feels a little guilty. "I'm sorry I kept you up. You gonna be okay to work tonight?"

"Don't worry about it." Mike sighs and runs a hand over his face. "I called off tonight, they got a replacement."

Jimmy's face drops. This only makes him feel guiltier.

Mike walks over to Jimmy and gives him a quick kiss, "I said don't worry about it."

He turns and pulls a t-shirt and sweatpants from the dresser, dropping his towel. Jimmy turns his head away to give him privacy.

"Jimmy, I think you've seen everything already." Mike chuckles.

Jimmy turns back and watches as Mike finishes dressing, his cheeks slightly flushed.

"You hungry?" Mike asks as he pulls his shirt over his head.

"I could eat." Jimmy replies casually, his stomach growling loudly. He didn't eat breakfast or lunch today. He eyes his remaining clothes piled on the floor and decides a suit would be over-dressing for this meal.

Mike leaves the room and Jimmy follows, tripping on his own feet in the dark hallway but catching himself with a hand against the wall. Mike snickers and flicks the kitchen light on as they enter. Jimmy sits down at the small table in the center of the kitchen, blinking as his eyes adjust to the bright light.

"I can make sandwiches." Mike offers as he opens the fridge and bends down to look inside. "Ham or pimento?"

"Ham sounds good." Jimmy replies, looking curiously around the kitchen.

Jimmy watches Mike awkwardly shut the fridge with his arms full of sandwich ingredients, and then notices a child's crayon drawing of a heart stuck to the freezer door. 

"You have grandkids?" Jimmy asks, pointing at the drawing.

Mike turns his back to Jimmy, taking a couple plates from the cabinet and beginning to prepare their sandwiches.

"A granddaughter." Mike replies stiffly.

Jimmy gets the impression he shouldn't ask about her anymore. "That's nice."

Mike grunts in acknowledgement and sets Jimmy's plate down on the table, before turning back to the counter to make his own sandwich.

Jimmy bounces his knee anxiously. He's not comfortable with this silence and can't resist trying to fill it. "I didn't even know you had kids."

Mike joins Jimmy at the table with his sandwich and takes a bite, a far-away look in his eyes. He swallows and coughs. "I had a son, but he's gone."

Jimmy groans inwardly.

"I’m sorry to hear that." He rubs the back of his neck, clearing his throat.

Mike raises his eyebrow at Jimmy and places his hand on Jimmy's knee, forcing him to be still. "Jesus, Jimmy, do you ever relax?"

Nobody has asked him that before.

"Maybe when I'm asleep." Jimmy responds with a short, strained laugh.

Mike sighs and lifts his hand off Jimmy's knee, picking up his sandwich to take another bite.

Jimmy's stomach growls, and he picks up his sandwich. He takes a bite and thinks it might be the best thing he’s ever eaten. He finishes his sandwich a little ahead of Mike and gets up to go to the fridge.

"Got anything to drink?" He asks Mike before opening the fridge.

"Beer or water." Mike states as he gathers their plates and places them in the sink.

Jimmy grabs two bottles and holds one out to Mike, who waves it away. He places it back in the fridge.

Mike grabs a bottle opener from a drawer and tosses it to Jimmy. He pops the cap and takes a sip, leaning back against the fridge. He pretends to be very interested in the label on his beer while Mike washes the plates. He looks up when Mike turns off the tap.

"I'm gonna watch TV, you got some place to be?" Mike asks while he dries his hands.

Jimmy's not sure if that's an invitation to stay or to leave. "I uh… not really."

Mike nods. "C'mon."

Jimmy follows Mike to the couch and sits on the opposite end from him. Mike flicks on the TV and _Woman of the Year_ is playing.

"Always had a crush on her." Mike says as he settles himself into the couch.

Jimmy watches the elegant woman on the screen. "Katharine Hepburn?"

"Mhm." Mike grunts in response.

Jimmy raises his eyebrows as he swallows his beer and processes this information.

"So you like women too?" Jimmy blurts out.

"Is that a problem?" Mike challenges, his eyes meeting Jimmy's.

A blush spreads across Jimmy's face. "No, of course not!" He pauses. "I mean, I do too. I'm bisexual."

Jimmy likes the little smile Mike gives him when he says this. There's only two other people in the world he's told, and one of them is dead now. Jimmy thinks his mother probably figured it out on her own, not that she ever said anything.

Jimmy will never forget the disgusted look on Chuck's face when he caught him ogling Howard's ass in the elevator. He knew then for certain that Chuck would never accept him. It hasn’t stopped him from trying though. He frowns down at his beer propped up between his thighs, picking absently at the edge of the label.

Mike reaches out invitingly, brushing his fingers against Jimmy’s bicep.

Jimmy smiles and grabs his beer, sliding over to Mike's side. Mike drops his arm around him and rubs his shoulder.

Jimmy reaches up and grabs Mike's hand. "Is it okay if I stay here tonight?"

"Fine by me." Mike replies, rubbing the palm of his hand up the back of Jimmy’s neck.

Jimmy grins and leans into Mike, happy to put his worries aside for just a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading 🥰 Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> Check out [my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallVictories/profile).


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